Flat Tire
by Writer016
Summary: Deputy Jordan Parrish never broke the law. He never ran a red light, he always came to a full stop at stop signs, and he never jaywalked. However, what Jordan Parrish was currently doing, could not only be considered unlawful but absolutely sinful.
1. Hallway Flirtation

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the writers and producers of _Teen__ Wolf_.**

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Deputy Jordan Parrish never broke the law. He never ran a red light (unless of course it was a police emergency and Beacon Hills seemed to have those in spades), he always came to a full stop at stop signs, and he never jaywalked.

However, what Jordan Parrish was currently doing, could not only be considered unlawful but absolutely _sinful_.

"You're really good at this," Stiles murmured with his eyes closed as his head slowly rolled back to face the ceiling. Parrish gently kissed along the young man's neck popping open one of the buttons-

"Hey! Are you listening?" Stiles waved one of his hands in front of the deputy's dazed face. Parrish jumped a bit in his seat and swallowed slowly. He dragged his eyes away from the boy's pale neck.

"Yup," Parrish responded hesitantly. Stiles raised one of his eyebrows and shot him a look that said he highly doubted it.

"My dad? Where is he?" Stiles' dad… Parrish's boss… well, his former boss if he didn't shake off all these strange fantasies he'd been having lately.

"He's out," Parrish muttered dryly. If he was unpleasant enough maybe Stiles would leave.

"I can see that, that's why I'm asking." Stiles crossed his arms on the top of the front desk and leaned forward ever so slightly.

"I don't know," Parrish stood up and grabbed a few reports that he needed to file. He walked around the desk and right by the now irritated Stilinski.

"Is there a reason you're being particularly unhelpful today, deputy?"

"Is there a reason you're being annoyingly persistent today?"

"I'm annoyingly persistent every day; it's one of my better features." Stiles started to follow after the deputy. Parrish walked slowly down the hallway because the floors had just recently been washed. Stiles seemed to have missed the huge yellow caution it's wet sign as he hurried after the older man because seconds later a sound that resembled something between a gasp and a scream exited his mouth. Parrish shot around and reached for his hand. Their fingertips brushed against each other as Stiles' ass hit the ground with a loud thud.

"Ow! Nice reflexes, Deputy-Two-seconds-too-late!" Stiles sighed, and then groaned as he threw himself back onto the floor.

"Are you okay?" Parrish kneeled next to him.

"Does it look like I'm okay? My ass hurts like hell."

"It could be worse," he offered Stiles his hand.

"How so?" Stiles accepted it and was hoisted to his feet.

"You could have a bony ass and then it would have hurt even more." Stiles didn't even miss a beat.

"Are you saying that I have a large ass?" At this Parrish paused and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. "Do you look at it often?" Stiles whispered, amusement etching his features.

"That's not… I only meant… It's not large, it's a nice size."

"So you like it?"

"No… I mean I don't dislike it or like it… I have no opinion when it comes to your ass, Stiles."

"I only ask because Lydia says I should eat less, or I'll end up getting fat."

"That tends to be true."

"Are you saying I should eat less?" Stiles breathed against Parrish's neck. Parrish took a step back. When had he gotten so close?

"Enough, Stiles!"

"Enough what?"

"I'm not playing this game with you."

"What game?" Stiles replied, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Parrish huffed and was about to continue fighting this losing battle, when the station door opened.

"Stiles!" Parrish and the mentioned teen jumped apart. Parrish scurried off in the opposite direction of the sheriff's voice. "Where are you?" Sheriff Stilinski looked around curiously as Stiles hurried out to greet his father.

"Hey," Stiles nearly shouted. His father shot him an inquiring look.

"Ready for lunch?" The sheriff moved towards the door. Stiles ran into his father's office and snagged his jacket off the desk.

"Yup, you ready for a champion's lunch… if the champion were a small salad eating rabbit?" The sheriff grunted distastefully, and Stiles chuckled. Stiles loved his dad and that was why he'd taken it upon himself to keep him as healthy as possible much to his father's chagrin.

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"So, what did you do at the station while you waited for me?" The sheriff asked him while he picked at his Caesar Salad. Stiles thought about what he was going to say. He couldn't tell the truth, even though he wasn't quite sure what he and Parrish had been doing exactly. Were they joking? Fighting? Teasing? … Flirting? Stiles felt his face heat up. Honesty probably wasn't the best policy in this situation.

"I exchanged pleasantries with Deputy Parrish." That was honest-ish. Stiles wasn't normally attracted to men. Lydia had been the love of his life for a long time, even if she herself hadn't reciprocated those feelings. They were friends now and he was cool with that. After all, it was nice to have someone just as intelligent and sassy to verbally spar with.

But that Parrish was certainly good-looking. He was sort of like that guy, from that movie about the marine who finds that picture; in the way that pretty much everyone thought that he was damn handsome. It didn't matter if you were gay, straight, male, female, an alien, a werewolf, Stiles was pretty sure that even the Oni would agree with him on this. Hell, Stiles was pretty sure even Parrish thought that he was handsome.

"What did you guys talk about?" His dad asked him. Shit.

"We talked about the station budget."

"Really? What would you know about the station's budget?" Stiles knew everything about the station budget; like where it went, how much went where, the amount of money in the budget, or in this case the lack of. That was the benefit of going through all of his dad's papers.

"I know that the budget is running a little low," Stiles stated matter-of-factly. Stiles paused, his mind racing to figure out where he was going with this. "And… I was thinking… that since the school throws… car washes… to raise money for things, the police station should too." Sheriff Stilinski seemed to ponder this for a second before sighing.

"I'm not washing cars Stiles."

"I'm sure I could get my friends to help, and Scott could get some of the guys from the Lacrosse team to pitch in," Stiles said as an ingenious thought struck him.

"Plus, I bet you could get some of the deputies to do it too." Stiles gave his father a smirk and put his hands behind his head.

"…Fine, but you're organizing this, I have enough on my plate."

"Damn right you have enough on your plate, just look at how much salad is left. Waitress can we get a box? He's going to eat the rest of that later."

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**A/N: I'm starting college soon, so I'll try to make as many updates as possible while that's going on. Please, any reviews or any comments are greatly appreciated. If I get enough reviews I'll try to pump out chapters more often.**


	2. The First Flat Tire

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the writers and producers of _Teen__ Wolf_.**

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"Please, Lydia! It will be fun." Stiles had spent all morning gathering allies for what would go down in history as the best car wash Beacon Hills had ever seen.

Convincing Scott had been easy. Scott roped in about five other guys from the Lacrosse team not including Liam. He even called Derek who had grumbled for about ten minutes over the phone before agreeing as a way to make it up to Stiles' dad for helping them out as often as he did. Kira agreed when she heard Scott would be helping out. Malia had driven a hard bargain. She wanted Stiles to "help" with a math test she'd done poorly on and by "help" she meant complete the math test for her. Lydia however was starting to prove the most difficult of all Stiles' little helpers.

"No, I have more important things to do on a Saturday than help you clean cars," Lydia said as she placed her books down on the lunch table.

"Come on Lydia, what's more fun than being half-naked with a bunch of other half-naked men… That came out wrong. You like half-naked men don't you Lydia?"

"I don't need to go to a car wash to find shirtless men, Stiles."

"You… me… skimpy clothing?"

"Only in your dreams, Stilinski."

"Only one and I rarely ever have that dream anymore." Lydia sighed before taking a sip of her water. She tapped her fingers on one of her books.

"Who else is going?" Stiles rubbed his hands together as he thought.

"Uh… Scott, Liam, Kira, Malia, me obviously, some of the players on the Lacrosse team, and a few of the guys down at the station are all helping out."

"Who from the station?" Lydia inquired as she took out her cell phone and began texting. Stiles didn't like where this was going.

"Deputy Parrish-" Lydia interrupted Stiles immediately.

"I guess I could clear my schedule… anything to help out my dear friend, Stiles."

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Later that same day Parrish was out on patrol like he normally was when somebody jumped out in front of his squad car. "What the hell?" He slammed on his brakes as the thin figure came into focus.

"Stop right there! Police emergency!" Stiles screeched, hands on his hips. Parrish stuck his head out the car window and grunted.

"Oh yeah? What's the emergency?" Stiles rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Rosco has a flat tire." Stiles pointed to the side of the road where he'd parked the poor jeep. Parrish sighed.

"And you can't fix it yourself because?" Stiles gestured wildly at the traffic.

"Some insane soccer mom who was late for practice almost ran me over with her minivan." Parrish parked on the opposite side of the road and got out. He walked over to Stiles' jeep with him and pulled out the spare tire.

"You put this in while I direct the traffic around you." The deputy was about to walk away when Stiles grabbed his arm.

"Wait… I'm not very mechanically inclined; could you do it for me?" Parrish sighed and got down on the black top. He started changing the tire.

"Your dad never taught you how to do this?" Stiles glanced over his shoulder before looking down at the young man in front of him.

"Nope… well maybe, but I probably wasn't paying attention." At this the deputy chuckled. "What?"

"Nothing, I find you oddly amusing."

"Really? Most people just find me odd." A car slowly pulled up beside them. The window slid down to reveal Lydia with one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows raised.

"What's going on here?" Stiles detected something almost predatory in her voice as she directed her gaze towards him.

"Nothing much, just helping Stiles here change his tire." Lydia nodded thoughtfully.

"That's funny because if I remember correctly, Stiles helped me change my tire just last week." Stiles laughed nervously as Lydia pulled a pair of sunglasses on that had been resting atop her head. "I really must get going. Have fun boys." Lydia slammed her gas pedal and drove away. Stiles anxiously bit down, hard, on his poor unsuspecting thumb. Parrish dropped the tools he'd been holding and began to stand.

"No, wait! I can explain." Stiles looked up at the slightly irritated deputy's face. Parrish furrowed his brows in both anger and confusion. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"You could have asked," Parrish shot back.

"Well, I did still need my tire changed." Stiles chuckled half heartedly. Parrish rolled his eyes.

"What did you want to talk about?" Stiles smiled a genuine smile and it pulled at the deputy's heartstrings a bit.

"I'm sure you've heard about the car wash right?"

"Yeah." Parrish crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I was wondering if you could get some of the guys down at the station to help out with it. You included of course." Stiles dug around in his pocket before pulling out a flyer he'd made on his computer. "It's going to be on Saturday. So if you could run off some copies and then hang them up while you're out on patrol, that'd be great." Stiles offered the flyer to Parrish who reached out and took it. Their fingers brushed against each other and Stiles shivered slightly as their hands slowly separated.

"I think I could do that." Stiles got down on his knees and picked up the tools.

"I'll finish up here. You should get back on patrol before I get you fired or something." Parrish walked back to the squad car with the piece of paper in hand. This Saturday, huh? He could probably manage that. He got into the squad car and started the engine. Parrish glanced back over at Stiles who was bending over to pick the flat tire up off the pavement. That ass in those jeans… how did he fit in jeans so tight? Parrish finally dragged his eyes away. Stiles was right. He was going to end up getting him fired… or something.

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**A/N: Hello again. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter... the car wash! Any reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	3. The Car Wash Part 1

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the writers and producers of _Teen__ Wolf_.**

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"Stiles if you spray me with that hose one more time I swear I will tear your jugular out with my teeth," Derek hissed, causing the woman in the car they were washing to give Derek a frightened look. Stiles smiled. He could hear Kira laughing at something Scott had said in the background as well as Malia arguing with some man who'd only given her a five dollar bill.

"My, aren't we kinky this afternoon, Sourwolf." Derek growled and threw his sponge at Stiles' face before stalking off. Stiles spit out soap and gave the woman a thumbs up. "All set Ma'am!" The woman gave Stiles ten bucks and drove off. Stiles walked up to Lydia who was standing on the corner in her bikini waving a sign she'd hand crafted herself. He leaned close to her. "There are so many jokes I could make right now."

"Make any of them and I'll behead you with this sign." Lydia turned around and smirked. "Look who decided to show up." Parrish pulled in and gave Scott a ten-dollar bill before stepping out of his car. "Hot damn," Lydia peered at him over the top of her sunglasses. Parrish had on a white wife beater and green swim trunks that went halfway down his toned thighs.

"I know where you're going with this Lydia and it's a bad idea." Correction: Great idea.

"Mind your own business Stiles; I'll be eighteen in a week."

"You should really stick to someone your own age." Hypocrite.

"Nobody our age looks like that."

"He's not even that good-looking." Liar.

"He's coming over here!" Lydia slapped Stiles' chest five times rapid fire. Stiles rubbed his sore pectoral muscle.

"Ouch…"

"Hey you two, how's it going?" Lydia shoved the sign against Stiles' chest.

"Great. Stiles be a dear and hold that sign for me while I get Deputy Parrish a bucket and sponge." She grabbed Parrish by one of his biceps and tugged him away.

"Wait! Don't leave me here," Stiles grumbled. He sighed before throwing his hands in the air. "Car wash."

"You should probably say it like this: Car wash!" Stiles jumped as Malia screamed in his ear.

"I thought you weren't speaking to me?"

"Well, I kind of have to if I want you to do my math test." Malia and Stiles shuffled about awkwardly. Stiles hadn't really talked to her since the list incident.

"So?"

"So… what?" He felt guilty. He'd assumed they were no longer together. It's why he'd had no problem hitting on Parrish in the station. Nothing like some rebound flirting to get you out of a funk. But now that she was in front of him, he wondered if she still thought they were in a relationship.

"Are we still… together?" He didn't say dating. He wasn't sure if Malia even knew what dating was. She pondered this for a moment.

"Stiles… I'm not sure if…" Malia drawled off apprehensively. Stiles got it now. She wanted space.

"I get it… you want space," Stiles said. He inwardly kissed the fantasies he'd been having of his favorite deputy goodbye. Lydia and him looked better together anyways. Malia frowned.

"I think we need more than space Stiles. I'm not sure if we should be together anyway." Stiles nodded thoughtfully. Ouch. That hurt more than he thought it would.

"Okay… Hey hold this." Stiles shoved the sign against her a little too forcefully before walking off in the other direction and leaving Malia all by her lonesome. Lydia had her hand on a blushing Parrish's arm.

"You must work out like crazy to get this muscular." Parrish laughed nervously.

"Lydia why don't you surprise everyone and actually do some work," Stiles hissed as he grabbed Parrish's wrist and yanked him in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Where are we going?" Stiles stopped in front of Derek who had scrubbed what Stiles could have sworn was the same minivan that almost took his life a few days prior. It hadn't taken long for Stiles to fix his flat tire after Parrish had left; after all, he had fixed Lydia's tire a week before.

"Sourwolf, Parrish. Parrish, Sourwolf. This will be your new car washing buddy." Stiles even did little hand motions to help them understand.

"Sourwolf? I thought his name was Derek?" Parrish asked skeptically.

"It's his nickname, like Fido or Rover." Derek grunted and continued washing the minivan. "Now take off your shirt." Parrish turned bright red as Derek snapped his head back around, eyebrow raised and clearly intrigued.

"What!? Why would I do that?"

"Stiles wants to make money. Derek already has his shirt off. Women, both single and married, will most definitely stop if both you and Derek have your shirts off. Sex sells deputy," Stiles said, referring to himself in the third person. Derek scoffed in amusement.

"Then why isn't your shirt off Stiles," Derek teased. Stiles turned around.

"I refuse to degrade myself like that."

"But we should? Degrade ourselves that is," Derek asked. His eyes seemed to taunt Stiles. Deputy Parrish sighed and removed his shirt anyway. Stiles glanced over his shoulder and did a double take. Was that a six-pack? And that bathing suit left very little to Stiles' imagination.

"I don't care," Parrish breathed. "Let's rake in the dough, partner in crime." Derek grinned maliciously. He was like a dog with a bone, no pun intended.

"You going to answer me, idiot," Derek said, Stiles puffed up his chest.

"I have a brain Derek, which means I'm more than just eye candy."

"What are you hiding under there Stilinski? We all know there's nothing there, don't worry we won't judge." Stiles grimaced and started to undo the buttons on his plaid button down.

"Fine, but prepare to be amazed." He got one of his arms stuck in his sleeves. Stiles struggled to get it out, stumbling back against the minivan. "Hold on, the amazement is on its way." He finally tugged his arm out and tossed the shirt onto the ground.

"You wore a t-shirt under that thing?" Parrish asked, starting to chuckle.

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**A/N: Part one of the car wash complete. Currently working on part two. Any reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


	4. The Car Wash Part 2

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the writers and producers of _Teen__ Wolf_.**

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Stiles turned and started to walk in the opposite direction. "Where are you going?" Derek called after him. Stiles walked back quickly and smirked in triumph.

"Technically speaking, I took off my shirt," Stiles muttered. Parrish stepped forward and grabbed the hem of Stiles' shirt and hoisted it over the teens head.

"That's cheating," Parrish whispered. He took a step back and raked his eyes over Stiles' form. Derek shrugged.

"Not bad Stilinski. I mean it's nothing compared to the two of us, but traces of a four pack are pretty good." Stiles' face turns bright red.

"Shut up, Miguel! That woman is waiting for you to finish washing her car," Stiles hissed at him. Derek grunts before moving to the other side of the car to speak with the mother who'd been ogling him for the past twenty minutes. Parrish looked around mischievously to make sure no one was watching before leaning down so that his breath was hot on Stiles' ear.

"Why don't you go wash my car Stiles? After all, sex sells, right?" Parrish teased before turning around and washing the minivans window.

Stiles blushed as he walked back over towards Parrish's car. Should he wash it? He mulled over Parrish's words. He didn't think Stiles would wash it, did he? Challenge accepted. Stiles steeled himself for what he was about to do. He stalked over to Scott who was hard at work on the windows.

"Scott… hose me down." Scott turned around, his mouth hanging wide open.

"Dude, where's your shirt?" Stiles sighed.

"I was hot. Still am. Hose me down." Stiles stretched out his arms, which made him look like he was about to give Scott a hug. Scott hesitantly raised the hose and released torrents of ice-cold water. Stiles jumped up and down ridiculously.

"Shit! Scott you left out the part about the water being freezing!"

"You said you were hot!"

"Well I wasn't that hot!" Stiles slicked his wet hair back as he grabbed a sponge and bucket. He climbed atop Parrish's vehicle and sat down with his legs spread wide. Stiles dipped his sponge in the bucket and began to scrub. He looked like a five-year old as he cleaned the car. His tongue was slightly sticking out the side of his mouth thoughtfully.

It didn't even take five minutes for Stiles to be covered head to toe in bubbles. Parrish looked over and started to laugh. He slapped Derek's arm a few times to get his attention. Then they both started to laugh together. Stiles felt his eyes sting with tears. Parrish was laughing at him… with Derek. God, he'd been so stupid. He probably looked like an idiot.

"Stiles you look like an idiot," Lydia said, soap suds throughout her hair, which was all over the place to begin with. She looked like Medusa. Plus her makeup was running down her face.

"Have you looked in a mirror recently Lydia? You look like a troll," Stiles snapped at her. Lydia gasped.

"It's not my fault that I ran out of water proof makeup and that stupid freshman decided to get water all over my face!" Lydia shouted in Liam's direction, who yelled back an apology. "Next time we're going leave you down the well Timmy!" All the adults looked at Lydia in horror, while the teenagers laughed amongst themselves. Stiles smiled at her warmly. She really was a great friend of his. She looked up at him and glared. "What are you looking at numbskull?"

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Stiles hummed as he counted the money. "About two thousand dollars," Stiles mumbled. His dad snatched the money out of his hands.

"Two thousand dollars!?"

"I did just say that Dad," Stiles walked away as his dad went inside to lock up the money. A few people were left, cleaning up the sponges and buckets. Scott and Kira were kissing where they thought nobody could see them. Malia was fanning Lydia with the car wash sign and Derek was whipping sponges at Liam's head. Stiles' eyes immediately found Parrish who had a sponge in his hand and was hosing down his car. Their eyes locked. Parrish placed the sponge on one of his defined pecs before slowly dragging it down his stomach, his eyes never leaving Stiles. Stiles blushed and huffed. He turned away and grabbed his clothes, pulling his shirt on over his head. What an asshole. Did he think he could just drag a sponge over his body in a provocative manner and all would be forgiven?

"Hey, you okay?" Stiles turned around to see Parrish standing there, wringing the sponge in his hand. Stiles glanced in the other direction, refusing to look at him.

"I'm not talking to you Deputy… Parr… ass," Stiles managed to choke out ineloquently. Parrish smirked.

"That was the best you could come up with?"

"You laughed at me!" Stiles accused poking the solid muscle that was Parrish's chest.

"What? When I was with Derek? I was laughing because you looked like a goof." Stiles shot him a dirty look. Parrish held up his hands in defense. "In a good way… the cute kind of goof." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"You think you can just charm your way back into my good graces deputy? Think again!" Parrish smiled.

"No, but I bet I could kiss my way back into your good graces." Stiles blushed, speechless at how forward Parrish was being.

"I'm only seventeen," Stiles managed to squeak out. Parrish frowned.

"Y-you're completely right," Parrish straightened up. "I'm being absolutely inappropriate. I'll see you another time, Stilinski." Stiles reached out, but Parrish was already walking away before Stiles could say anything. Stiles couldn't help but feel he was making a mistake as he watched the young deputy get in his car and drive away.

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**A/N: All done with the final car wash scene. Chapter five should be up soon. Any reviews would be appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


	5. The Fire Part 1

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the writers and producers of _Teen__ Wolf_.**

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Stiles really shouldn't have gone into that cabin all by his lonesome. He'd been trying to help Scott and Derek find this new pack that had stumbled into town, when he'd heard rumors about a couple of men wandering about on the old Hale land. Stiles was just driving around with Rosco when he saw a bit of smoke coming from not too far away. The sky was starting to darken when Stiles pulled up to the abandoned cabin. Smoke billowed from the campfire at his feet. He tightened his grip on his trusty baseball bat, before walking into the cabin. Stiles jumped nearly ten feet when he heard three voices coming his way. Mountain ash spilled from his pockets as he lined the door and windows with it. Believing, really hard, that no supernatural creature would be able to cross it. Hopefully that would hold them off while Lydia, who he'd told to let Scott and Derek know where he was going, informed Scott and Derek of his whereabouts.

"Who the hell are you?" A man, who Stiles assumed was in charge of the two other werewolves that were there, growled. Stiles chuckled nervously.

"The pizza delivery boy?"

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Lydia wasn't stupid. Stiles however, although not stupid, did stupid shit. When he'd called her up on his way over to the Hale land and told her to inform Scott and Derek of his little trip, she'd immediately done two things. First, Lydia had, in not so few words, told him that he was a schmuck. Second, she'd called up Derek and Scott and told them to get their asses over there before Stiles got himself hurt or worse killed.

Now it was time to get her ass over there so she could beat Stiles herself. Which was why she had her fist in Deputy Parrish's face.

"I need someone to drive me over there and you have a gun." Parrish stood up and grabbed keys to a police cruiser.

"Your point? You need keys to drive Lydia, not a gun." Parrish walked right by her and out the station door. She quickly hurried after him.

"Wait for me! And I know that, I just wanted someone who could protect me." Parrish got into the cruiser and started the engine. Lydia tried to open the door, but it was locked. Parrish rolled down the window.

"I don't have to protect you if you're not in harm's way," Parrish said as he drove out of the parking lot and down the street. Lydia screamed in frustration. The windshield on one of the parked cruisers shattered. Damn him. No, better yet, screw him. Lydia Martin relied on no man. She would just steal herself a police cruiser. She stomped into the station and walked right by Sheriff Stilinski. Neither of them noticed the other. Lydia stopped in the middle of the police station and looked around. Now where the hell did they keep the keys in this god-forsaken place.

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"Come out boy," one of the werewolves cooed. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Do you think that within the past ten seconds I've forgotten that you're werewolves who probably want to tear me limb from limb? I'm not coming out of this house."

"What if I ask nicely?" The wolf inquired. Stiles quirked an eyebrow.

"No! Not even then. If I let you in, I die. If I come out, I die. If I stay here where you can't reach me, I live. I think I'll choose live if that's alright with you." The werewolves growled. One of them sniffed the air.

"There are three other wolves on their way, we need to go." The leader held out his hand.

"Wait, just let me take care of this one." The werewolf picked up the can of gasoline they'd been using to light their fire and threw some all over the house. He even tossed some through the window. "Have fun little one," he laughed as he threw a match and the gasoline lit up. The wolves took off. Stiles backed up against the wall of the wooden cabin. Great. Just great.

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Parrish drove through the Hale land at break neck speed. Where the hell was he? He hadn't talked to Stiles since the day of the car wash about a week ago. He'd been avoiding Stiles as if he were the Nogitsune, and Stiles had gotten rid of that sucker months ago. If Stiles entered the room, the young deputy found something to do in a separate room. What had he been thinking anyway? A thing with Stiles would only end badly for the both of them. There were so many things that could complicate a relationship between the two of them. Their age. Stiles' dad being his boss. He being… well whatever the hell he was. There was so much going on.

He'd seen the hurt on Stiles' face when he'd turned around and left. It had eaten away at him for the past couple days. He'd hated it.

What was even worse were the dreams. Well, nightmares would be a more accurate description. They were always the same. Parrish would always tell Stiles that he loved him and then Stiles would die.

The suckiest nightmare had occurred just the other night. Stiles would have a bomb strapped to him and they would send Parrish in to defuse it. Stiles would cry. Parrish would assure him that everything would be okay. Then, Parrish would tell Stiles he loved him. Something would go wrong. Finally, the bomb would go off with a brilliant and fiery explosion. And somehow Parrish would be left mourning in the ashes.

The deputy snapped out of his thoughts and slammed on his brakes as Rosco came into view. There was a large amount of smoke coming from over the hill where Stiles had parked his jeep. What the hell? Parrish didn't remember anybody living way out here. He stepped out of the car and ran over the small hill. The first thing he noticed was fire. The next was Stiles coughing.

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**A/N: Hope you guys liked it. Thanks for reading and any reviews are appreciated. Next chapter soon!**


	6. The Fire Part 2

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the writers and producers of _Teen__ Wolf_.**

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Stiles cursed as he tried to stay below the fumes coming from the flames. The outside of the house was almost completely covered by fire. Heat seemed to radiate from every direction. He was going to die wasn't he. "Stiles! Are you in there!?" And now he was imagining things. What was Parrish up to right now? Probably hitting on a man or woman his own age. "Stiles!" Stiles sat up and yelled.

"Shut up cruel world!" There was a long pause and the only sound was the crackling of the raging inferno.

"Stiles? What are you shouting about? Never mind, at least I know you're in there." Stiles slammed his head against the floor. So embarrassing. Parrish was actually out there. "I'm coming in Stiles." Yay. He was saved.

* * *

Parrish was pretty sure his clothes weren't fire-proof. Now to get Stiles. Parrish charged at the doorway, which was engulfed in flames, and hit an invisible barrier. Why couldn't he get in? There was nothing there but fire. He ran into it again. And again. And again. He could see Stiles inside the cabin, laying on the floor, eyes closed. Shit. A small part of the deputy had a feeling that his nightmares were about to come true.

He punched the shielded entrance repeatedly. His knuckles started to bleed. Parrish screamed. "Stiles! I can't get in!"

* * *

Stiles could hear the deputy screaming. What the hell was he waiting for? It was taking Parrish forever to get in here and save him. Wait. The mountain ash. Stiles inwardly cursed himself for being so well prepared. How was Parrish going to get in? There wasn't a way around the mountain ash. But mountain ash was all about belief wasn't it? What if he believed that Parrish could cross the mountain ash? Here went nothing.

Stiles heard him before he felt him. Strong arms lifted him up off the floor. "Hang on, okay?" Stiles didn't need to be told twice as Parrish carried him out of the small cabin. Fresh air. He coughed a bit as he breathed in deeply. Stiles nestled his face in the crook of Parrish's neck as he was brought over to Rosco. Stiles dug his hands into the deputy's… bare skin? His eyes snapped open.

"Are you naked?" Stiles asked. Parrish grunted.

"Thank you for saving me, Parrish. Oh you're welcome Stiles, it was no problem, just doing my job," Parrish muttered sarcastically. Stiles clung to him tighter.

"Thank you Parrish," Stiles muttered mere moments before he was thrust up against the side of his jeep.

"What the fuck were you thinking!? You could have gotten yourself killed!" Parrish shook Stiles furiously. Stiles slammed his fists against Parrish's chest indignantly.

"I had everything under control! Scott and Derek were on their way. I don't need you to save me!" Parrish tightened his grip on Stiles' upper arms.

"What you did today was stupid! You should have brought someone with you," Parrish spat vehemently.

"What I decide to do is none of your business," Stiles whispered as he struggled to shake off the deputy's grasp.

His movements didn't last very long. Parrish shoved his mouth right against Stiles' own. The kiss itself was desperate, hungry… and over quicker than Stiles would have liked. Parrish paused briefly. Neither of them spoke a word as the deputy placed Stiles aside and gathered up his clothing. Stiles averted his eyes, blushing as he silently made note of what Parrish meant when he'd mentioned a month or so ago that he had good genes.

Parrish dressed quietly and then strode off towards his police cruiser. Stiles watched him go feeling like he'd just been scolded. He was sad and guilty. Why did Parrish have to be partly right too? He should have brought someone with him. Three werewolves. One baseball bat. What had he been thinking?

"Stiles!" He turned and peered in the distance, catching sight of Derek, Scott, and Liam. He'd be dead now if Parrish hadn't shown up. The leaves crunched beneath the cruiser's tires as it took off along the same path Stiles had taken to get here. Scott approached him, glancing over at the fire. "What happened here?"

"Nothing much," Stiles replied, taking his keys out of his pocket. "The wolves went that way." Scott slapped Stiles on the back.

"Thanks dude. And sorry it took us so long to get here, what with Derek the way he is," Scott jabbed his thumb in Derek's direction. Derek just glared at Scott, shotgun in hand.

"No problem. I'm gonna take off," Stiles said as he climbed into Rosco. Scott nodded. Liam and Derek jogged ahead to where Stiles had directed them.

"Alright. See you later maybe?" Scott asked hopefully. Stiles shook his head.

"I'm pretty tired. I might just crash when I get home."

"Okay. My mom wanted to know if you and your dad wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night. Sound like a good idea?" Stiles tried to remember his dad's schedule.

"Yeah. Dad should be off from work in time for dinner." Scott smiled.

"Cool, see you then." Without another word Scott ran off to catch up with Liam and Derek. Stiles stuck his key in the ignition and sat there for a few minutes. His breathing steadied as he rested his forehead against the steering wheel. He owed the deputy both an apology and a thank you. A really big thank you. Like a cake and balloons kind of thank you. He switched into reverse and performed a rather sloppy three-point turn.

Stiles started to pull forward and stopped. Wait a second. Which way had he taken to get all the way out here? He sighed at the realization it was going to be a very long night.

* * *

"Aha!" Lydia threw her hand into the air, the keys jingled in her grasp. "Don't worry Stiles. I'm on my way." Parrish shuffled into the station and shot her a confused look.

"Lydia? What are you still doing here? Go home."

* * *

**A/N: Oh how I love Lydia. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. If you have any comments, questions, etcetera, feel free to leave it in the reviews. Stay tuned for another chapter and thanks for reading!**


	7. The Apartment

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the writers and producers of _Teen__ Wolf_.**

* * *

"Can I come in?" Stiles inquired, looking straight down at his shoes. Parrish leaned casually in the doorway of his apartment. The deputy wore low-cut socks, faded blue jeans and a dark green t-shirt.

It had been three weeks and Parrish had spent the majority of them ignoring Stiles. It was all Stiles thought about. He would think about it while going from class to class. He thought about it while he ate. Before he slept. He even dreamt about it. Finally, Stiles took actions into his own hands.

He'd went into the station and then into his father's office. Stiles brought him lunch so it looked less suspicious and chit chatted for a bit. After awhile his dad went off to the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, Stiles had gone right to work. He'd pulled up the young deputy's file and then memorized the address. Sure… maybe it was kind of creepy. But if the deputy had just talked to him, Stiles wouldn't have had to resort to such desperate measures.

"How do you know where I live?" Parrish asked, taking in the nervous teen before him. Stiles was about to respond when some woman came into view behind Parrish. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Her blonde hair was meticulously combed and her lip gloss put Lydia's to shame. She quickly straightened her pink tank top and brushed what looked like popcorn off her capris.

"Are you going to come back in and finish the movie?" She asked in an annoying voice that would have driven Stiles absolutely insane. Parrish removed her hands from around his waist.

"Actually, I'm going to need you to leave. Something's come up. Police business." Stiles cringed as the woman grabbed her things and tried to smile in a sultry way. Slut.

"That's so hot. Call me soon." She walked out of the apartment and down the stairs. Parrish opened the door and stepped aside.

"Come in." Stiles took a deep breath and crossed over the threshold.

Parrish's apartment was a decent size in Stiles' mind. The carpeted living room was separated from the kitchen by a counter and doorway. A fridge, oven and other appliances filled the kitchen, followed by a table with four chairs that sat atop the wooden floor. A couple of windows lined the far wall, granting a nice view of the street below. The entire place smelt nice. Like peppermint. Stiles noticed another doorway, which he assumed led to Parrish's bedroom and bathroom. The thought of the older man's bedroom caused Stiles' cheeks to flush.

"Stiles, what are you doing here?" Stiles turned around just as Parrish shut the door. Stiles shrugged off his sweatshirt and folded it over his arms. He tugged on the rolled up sleeve of his plaid shirt and shoved the keys to his jeep into one of the pockets on his dark blue skinny jeans. He was so nervous. He'd had to give himself a pep talk in the rearview mirror a couple of times just to enter the apartment building. Stiles swallowed to combat his dry throat and started to speak, before he lost the nerve he'd managed to build up on the way over.

"You've been ignoring me. I wanted to apologize for how I acted after you saved me. I should have said thank you and then left it at that." Parrish sneered.

"You think I'm upset because you didn't say thank you?" Stiles took a step back.

"Aren't you?" Parrish frowned.

"I'm pissed that you went off by yourself Stiles! I thought you died in there." Parrish explained, his voice softened as he said the last part. Stiles blinked a few times.

"Oh." Stiles walked towards the counter. His back facing Parrish. "Then… give me your number."

"What?" Parrish asked, a little more than confused. Stiles turned around.

"The next time I decide to do something stupid, I'll call you." Stiles smirked.

"It's not funny Stiles."

"I'm not joking. You're a part of the gang now. You should be in the know." Parrish sighed. "Are we good?" Stiles asked. Parrish could hear the hope in the teen's voice.

"I guess… but don't think you're off the hook that easily Stilinski. Pull another stunt like that again and I'll kill you myself."

"Yes Deputy Parrish, sir." Stiles mock saluted him.

"I'm serious Stiles. It was really reckless of you. Do you know how worried I was? I felt like if I didn't save you then it would have been my fault that you'd died." Parrish crossed his arms. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I promise I'll be more careful." Parrish's shoulders seemed to relax a bit.

"Okay." Stiles smiled, and hoisted himself up onto the counter between the kitchen and the living room.

"So… who the hell was she?"

"A friend of mine." Stiles shot the deputy a look that wreaked of disbelief.

"Some friend. If she was wearing any less clothing I would have thought she was a prostitute." Parrish smirked.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Stiles?" Stiles scoffed.

"Me? Jealous of that bottle blonde? Hardly. You know, Lydia once said, and I quote, 'Parrish probably gets mad bitches.' Apparently she was right because that woman was definitely a bitch." Parrish grinned. Stiles blushed. Damn the sick twisted god who made such a beautiful man.

"You are jealous. Don't worry. Green's a cute look on you." Stiles began to study his nails, feigning disinterest. Parrish chuckled.

"I already told you. I'm not jealous." Stiles looked up, the amusement gone from his face. "Are you actually going to call her back?" Parrish ran his finger along the end table at the edge of his couch. His eyes met Stiles' own and neither dared to pull their gaze from the other. Stiles felt his heart beat increase. Why was Parrish looking at him like that? It was driving Stiles crazy. A really good, hot kind of crazy. The kind of crazy a guy could get himself used to.

"That depends. Are you going to give me a reason not to call."

* * *

**A/N: Wonder what's going to happen? Anyways. Reviews are appreciated and stay tuned for the next chapter.**


	8. Dibs

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the writers and producers of _Teen__ Wolf_.**

* * *

Parrish chuckled deeply as Stiles ran across the room and jumped. He caught the teen's legs, stumbling back as Stiles wrapped them around his waist. Stiles twined his fingers in Parrish's hair. "I'll give you a real good reason." Stiles kissed the man's jaw line. Parrish let out a breathy moan.

"That's… that's a great reason." Stiles chuckled and put his feet back on the carpet. He started to back up towards the side of the couch trying, and failing, to look seductive.

"If you come over here I can give you a- agh!" Stiles screeched as he stumbled backwards over the edge of the couch. Parrish laughed. He was so damn cute. Parrish climbed over the couch and sat on top of Stiles.

"What were you saying?" Stiles had a very goofy smile on his face.

"I really like you." Parrish ran his thumb along Stiles' bottom lip.

"You're beautiful." Stiles blushed.

"Parrish… what are we doing?"

"What do you mean?" Parrish asked, sitting back, and pulling Stiles into his lap. Stiles snaked his arms around the deputy's neck.

Stiles wasn't ready for a relationship. He'd just ended things with Malia. What was he doing with Parrish? Was he using him? As like a rebound or something? No… he really did like him.

"I want to take things slow," Stiles muttered shyly, in an uncharacteristic manner.

"I can do things slow," Parrish grinned at Stiles and kissed his forehead. The deputy flicked on the television. "And what's more slow than watching a movie?"

* * *

Stiles shifted sleepily against something incredibly warm. Where the hell was he again? Stiles reached up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Something tightened its grip around his waist. Parrish… wait… why was he spooning with Parrish? Had he fallen asleep? Stiles rummaged around in his pocket for his cellular device. Parrish mumbled something unintelligible. Shit. Stiles groaned at the numerous text messages his dad and Scott had sent him.

"Stop moving… you're waking me up," Parrish stated drowsily. A few of Scott's messages particularly bothered Stiles.

_'__Hey, I told your dad that you passed out at my house. Where r u?'_

_ '__Stiles?'_

_ '__Stiles, where r u?'_

_ '__Tht's it. Lydia and I are going to come look for you.'_

"Parrish. I got to go, I-" Knocking on the door interrupted Stiles.

"Stiles? I know you're in there… and I can smell Parrish too," Scott tapped on the door lightly. Stiles could hear somebody whisper fighting with Scott. Then there was obnoxiously loud banging.

"Stiles! This is Lydia. Open the door! Better yet. Parrish, this is Lydia. Please be a doll and open the door," Lydia said the part with Parrish in a sweet and soft tone.

"Let go," Stiles hissed as he struggled out of Parrish's grasp.

"What are we going to say? We can't tell them the truth," Parrish said. Stiles inwardly cursed; Scott probably heard that. There was more whispering.

"Stiles! Why is Parrish letting you go!? I want the truth… Oh my god… Are you two?" Lydia hissed through the door. "If you are, I saw him first Stiles. Dibs were called." Stiles flung the door wide open,

"Technically, I saw him first. He's my dad's deputy. Second, nobody actually listens to dibs. And third, nothing's going on." Lydia gasped and slapped Stiles' chest repeatedly.

"Liar! Liar! You have a hickey," Stiles' hand shot straight for his neck.

"I do not, Lydia."

"Could we possibly take this inside. I'd rather not disturb my neighbors," Parrish said, ushering in Lydia and Scott. Lydia punched Parrish's arm.

"You pervert! You can't violate my best friend like that," Lydia sassed. Parrish just smirked and shot her an equally sass filled look.

"Really? Because your best friend wasn't complaining when I gave him that mark an hour ago," Parrish replied.

"That's my brother you're talking about there," Scott growled.

"Enough! All three of you," Stiles shouted, jumping in between them. "You stay here," Stiles said, pointing at Parrish. "You two, huddle up in the corner." Scott, Lydia and Stiles gathered in a corner of Parrish's apartment.

"Okay, spill," Scott said.

"Alright. Parrish and I are just friends," Stiles started. Lydia rolled her eyes.

"If that's the case, I wish I had friends like that," Lydia retorted.

"Fine… we're figuring it out. We're not sleeping together. We both want to wait until I'm eighteen… or he does at least. The only thing we've done is kiss," Stiles stated. Lydia scrunched up her nose.

"Ew! I don't want to know that… who am I kidding? I want to know every sordid detail. How big is his… you know," Lydia said, gesturing with her hands. Scott elbowed her.

"Lydia!" Scott reprimanded.

"What? If Stiles is going to tap that, I should at least be able to live vicariously through him," she said. She looked at Stiles expectantly; Stiles just grinned and Lydia wiggled her eyebrow suggestively. "That big, huh?"

"I can hear you," Parrish said, glancing in Lydia's direction.

"When you cuddle is Parrish the big spoon?" Lydia ignored Parrish and continued to interrogate Stiles. It was Scott, however, who answered.

"Probably. Malia says that Stiles likes being the little spoon." Stiles turned bright red.

"That's only because it's more comfortable being the little spoon," Stiles shouted. Everybody else laughed. "You guys are jerks… I'm going home." Scott looped his arm with Stiles'.

"Actually, you're coming back to my place. Your dad thinks that you're there," Scott said, as he, Lydia and Stiles walked towards the door.

"Can you drop me at my place first?" Lydia inquired. Stiles nodded.

"Yeah, not a problem. Meet you at your place after?" Scott nodded in affirmation. "Wait, I just need to say goodbye," Stiles said. Parrish met Stiles halfway and they stood there awkwardly. Stiles cleared his throat. "Meet you two downstairs." Scott grabbed Lydia's upper arm and tried to gently pull her out the door.

"Scott, they're about to kiss. I want to watch and pretend that I'm Stiles."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter's going to involve Lydia. I love Lydia! Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading, until next time.**


	9. Not A Date Night

**Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They belong to the writers and producers of _Teen__ Wolf_.**

* * *

Lydia Martin didn't do charity. Who did this freshman think he was anyways? He ruined her makeup at the car wash and now he wanted a favor? Hell no.

"Please Lydia, my dad's working the late shift at the hospital and I need someone to drive me over to the crafts store. I need supplies for a school project," Liam pleaded.

"Sorry. But I can't be seen out in public with a freshman," Lydia sat in her car and continued to file her nails. Liam growled.

"You've been seen out in public with me before. It wasn't a problem then," he said.

"Well, it's a problem now." Lydia started her car engine and put the car in drive.

"Wait. I'll do anything you want," Liam said, leaning in her window. She slapped his head.

"Get out!" Lydia sighed and threw the car into park and turned off the engine. "Anything?"

* * *

If there was one thing that Lydia loved, it was public humiliation.

"Are you really going to make me wear this?" She smiled fiendishly.

"Only to Lacrosse practice after school. Then I'll take you to the mall to get you your art supplies. It will even be my treat." Liam silently looked at himself in the mirror.

"This shirt is demeaning. Is it because I'm a freshman?" Lydia took in the scene before her. That shirt she'd thrown together on the fly was actually pretty damn good. She'd keep it. Make her next boyfriend wear it in bed or something.

"That and you're a werewolf, so it sort of has a double meaning," she said. Liam wore a white t-shirt, with the words _Lydia's Bitch_ painted in red across the front.

* * *

Lydia waited patiently on the hood of her car. He was late. The sky was beautiful. A majestic cerulean blue. She breathed in deeply. It was actually relaxing to just be out there with the cool breeze in her hair. Lydia was startled out of her trance, when she felt something hit her face.

"Hey!"

"Here's your shirt. I never want to wear that thing again," Liam seethed.

"What's your problem?" Lydia reflexively assessed the shirtless Liam in front of her. Not bad. Seven, maybe an eight.

"Nothing," he grumbled. Lydia jabbed his chest with one of her fingers.

"You're lying, but I don't care. Let's go.' Lydia threw him the shirt she'd been holding on to during practice. "Put that on and get in."

* * *

"Hold these," Lydia thrust four shopping bags full of clothes into Liam's hands.

"Why do I have to hold these?"

"You're making the car wash up to me."

"Wearing that ridiculous shirt wasn't enough?"

"Hey, I'm paying for your project supplies. The least you can do is carry my shopping bags."

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" One of the saleswomen approached Lydia and Liam hesitantly, but with a smile on her face.

"Yeah?" Lydia asked curiously.

"The girls and I just wanted to say that you and your boyfriend look so cute together." Lydia chuckled and Liam's face was almost as red as a tomato.

"We… I mean we're not t-together," Liam spluttered out.

* * *

"Order whatever you want," Lydia said, opening up her menu. She'd stopped at a decent restaurant on the way back from the mall. Nothing too fancy though. They weren't dressed appropriately for something like that. Liam was looking right at her over his menu. Did he think she couldn't see him? "Do I have something on my face?"

"N-no, sorry. I was just thinking," Liam averted his gaze, choosing to look out the window instead.

"About me?"

"No… sort of. I was trying to imagine what it must be like… to be you." Lydia chuckled.

"Someone who has a lot of money?"

"No… a banshee," Liam didn't even bother to whisper the last part. Lydia's eyes shot up from her menu. He was staring intently, right at her. It was as if he thought that by looking at her he would be able to understand her. It made her uncomfortable for some reason.

"Stop looking at me like that, it's creepy," Lydia said. "What do you want for dinner?"

* * *

"This is me," Liam turned to look at Lydia in the driver's seat. Lydia half smiled.

"I know… I drove you here," she responded dryly. Liam unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door.

"Do you maybe want to come inside? We never did have dessert at the restaurant… I have ice cream," Liam said, as he gestured towards his house. Lydia shook her head.

"Maybe some other time. I should really be getting home."

* * *

"Hey Stiles, you called?" Lydia said into her phone as she kicked off her shoes.

"Yeah. I just wanted to talk. How was your day?"

"Pretty good. Long. I took Liam to the mall, did some shopping and then had dinner." Stiles was silent for a few seconds.

"I saw your shirt."

"What did you think?

"Not your finest moment, Lydia."

"Aw. It was harmless," Lydia said. She quickly changed into a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. Stiles made a disapproving sound over the phone.

"He got in a fight, Lydia."

"What?"

"Yeah," Stiles said. "Some guys made fun of him, but one dude asked him what it was like tapping your and I quote 'hot ass' then Liam punched him."

"Really?" No. She was not going to feel any type of gratitude towards him. Because gratitude could lead to other things. If she felt for him, she would feel for him. And Lydia really didn't want any of that now.

"Yup, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Okay?"

"Hey! You didn't tell me about your day," Lydia complained. "Did you see Parrish?"

"Mmm… Yeah… briefly," Stiles muttered happily.

"And?"

"That's it. Talk to you tomorrow." Lydia bounced backwards onto her bed.

"Wait!" But it was too late. Stiles had already hung up the phone. Lydia let out an annoyed sigh. Men. You couldn't live with them. And she was sure if she tried hard enough, she could live without them too.

* * *

**A/N: Hey everybody, sorry for that late update. The first few weeks of college have been crazy. I wanted to give credit to the amazing artist who drew my cover photo, Jumpeonit on tumblr. I hope you all enjoy the chapter. Will try to update as soon as possible! :)**


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